


Backwards

by this_wayward_life



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Background T'Challa/Sam Wilson - Freeform, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Fluff and Humor, Hook-Up, Implied Oral Sex, M/M, Natasha Romanov Tries To Kill A Whole Biker Gang, No Plot/Plotless, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Riding, Shameless Smut, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 07:50:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20756906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_wayward_life/pseuds/this_wayward_life
Summary: Sam had dragged him to a club. Which was already a recipe for disaster.





	Backwards

**Author's Note:**

> A completely plotless drabble, featuring Samchalla, slut Steve, slut Bucky, and drunken make-out sessions. This is pure crack and smut, and has no substance whatsoever.

Sam had dragged him to a club. Which was already a recipe for disaster.

Steve wasn't exactly a fan of these kinds of places - even the ones that don't look fresh out of a horror movie. They smelled of body odour and liquor, people never knew to keep their hands to themselves, and the drinks were ridiculously expensive. At least when he went with Sam and T'Challa, everyone was too busy with the drunken escapades Sam always managed to find himself in to pay much attention to Steve. The most intense was when the police had found Sam the day after a particularly rowdy night, suspended over the Grand Canyon and wrapped in fairy lights. How he even got to the Grand Canyon, which was on the other side of the country, Steve would never know.

A woman with badly dyed blonde hair was eyeing him from the other end of the room, and Steve tried to ignore her. He took a sip of his beer, feeling comfortably tipsy, and watched as T'Challa desperately tried to keep Sam from getting on the table. Steve laughed softly as Sam fell off and pressed a large, wet kiss on T'Challa's lips, which shocked him enough for Sam to climb back onto the table.

Steve rolled his eyes, realising he'd need a lot more than just beer to get him through the night, and ordered a few shots. He knocked one back and caught something in the corner of his eyes, turning his head to see what it was. A very drunk redhead had started a fistfight with the biker gang who were sitting in the corner of the room. Steve almost got up to help her, because she was very small compared to the ten gang members who were attempting to hit her. The keyword was attempting - three of their buddies lay on the floor, and the woman had her legs wrapped around one of their necks as she punched another one in the jugular, before gracefully backflipping and sending the man she was holding onto crashing to the ground. Okay, so maybe she wasn't drunk after all. 

Before she could actually kill them, two men came up behind her and started dragging her away - since she wasn't trying to murder them, Steve assumed they were her friends - but not before the man with the long hair punched one of the bikers in the face as he attempted to grab the woman. The man with the long hair looked up and caught Steve's eye, and Steve almost fell off his chair. The man's eyes, even from all the way across the room, were a startling blue-grey. They held eye contact for a split second before the other guy said something, and the man turned away. Steve could've sworn his face was red.

Steve watched the man as he crossed the room to the dancefloor, his friends obviously bickering beside him. His movements were smooth and coordinated like a dancer's, and Steve wondered if the man's hair was as soft as it looked. As Steve watched, the trio disappeared into the throng of bodies.

"What did you see to make you look like that?" T'Challa asked with amusement, dragging a protesting Sam over. "I haven't seen that look on you since -"

"Since you rawed my twink cousin in my mother's bathroom at Thanksgiving dinner," Sam helpfully said, his voice slurred. "I can't look my aunt in the eye anymore."

"It wasn't that dramatic!" Steve protested.

"I'm not sure, Steve," T'Challa said thoughtfully. "You are a bit of a whore."

"I am not!"

"You definitely are," Sam slurred as he started trailing wet kisses up T'Challa's neck. T'Challa moaned softly, and Steve laughed quietly.

"Just get drunk, T'Challa," he said. "I know your whole problem with this is the fact he's drunk and you're not. So get drunk."

"But Sam doesn't like me like that," T'Challa complained as if Sam wasn't leaving hickeys all over his neck.

"Dude. I live with him. I know for a fact that he likes you back," Steve sighed. T'Challa paused, and then tipped back three shots in quick succession. Because he was such a lightweight, Steve knew that it would only take a few minutes for the alcohol to kick in, and quickly left before his two best friends were arrested for public indecency.

Steve kept to the sides of the room, keeping a tight hold on his drink and his free hand on his wallet. It wasn't that he didn't trust places like this, but... okay, it was definitely that he didn't trust places like this.

There were three people going against the tide of bodies that were swaying to the music. The smallest of the group tossed her hair over her shoulder, and Steve realised it was the red-haired woman he'd seen earlier. Steve's eyes immediately went to her long-haired companion. He was tall and muscular, his shirt and pants stretched over his body in a way that was almost pornographic. Steve felt a hot bolt of arousal make its way through his body as the man looked over and caught Steve's eye. 

When the trio reached the exit, the man turned back to look at Steve, before saying something to his companions. The blonde man grinned and punched his shoulder, before throwing an arm around the woman and walking out. The man turned back to look at Steve and gestured with his head towards the corridor. There was a smirk playing on his lips.

Steve downed the last of his drink and followed the man down the corridor, coming face to face with him at the bend and feeling the man's lips press against his without any hesitation. Steve gripped the man's hips tightly, feeling the shirt ride up and the warm skin underneath his thumb. The man groaned and pulled away to look at Steve. His ice-blue eyes were ringed with kohl, and it brought out the flash of amusement when Steve pressed him against the wall.

"What's your name?" Steve murmured against the man's neck. The beautiful stranger groaned, his arms coming up to wrap around Steve's neck. Steve realised with a jolt that one of the arms was made of metal.

"Bucky."

The club's music was pounding through the walls, through the floor. It was heard and felt from every angle, and as the beautiful man pressed against him moved in time, Steve couldn't help himself from moving along with him, the two of them almost dancing as they traced patterns in each other's skin and kissed new constellations to life. Steve was drunk, and so was Bucky - it didn't matter. It was almost psychedelic, the way the lights moved and the music boomed, and Steve held onto Bucky to keep him to this plane of reality. 

When Bucky kissed him, it felt like flying and drowning at the same time. It was intoxicating, it was overwhelming, it was the perfect mixture of ecstasy and fear. It was beginning to look like more than just lust - and Steve knew that Bucky felt it, too.

At that moment, Steve's phone rang. Bucky's head fell to his shoulder. He was breathing heavily.

"Hey Steeeeeeeve?" T'Challa's voice came from the end of the line. Obviously that liquor had caught up with him. "Sam and I need a ride home. I don't have my wallet and walking back would be bad because Sam would get impatient and suck my dick in the middle of the street."

"I did not need to know that," Steve sighed as Bucky muffled his giggles in Steve's neck. "I'll call you an Uber, okay?"

"No, you need to come with us," T'Challa insisted. "I don't know where we're going."

"The Uber driver already knows, that's the whole point - oh fuck it, I'll meet you out front," Steve found himself saying. "I'll be there in five." 

Bucky's eyeliner was smudged, Steve realised. He leaned in to kiss the beautiful stranger again, and Bucky melted against him.

"I want to see you again," Bucky murmured. Steve felt his heart soar, and he grinned. 

"Give me your phone," he said, and Bucky pulled it out of his back pocket without question. Steve typed in his number and handed the phone back to Bucky, but instead of reaching for the phone, Bucky wrapped his arms back around Steve's neck and pulled him down for another kiss. It was slow and open-mouthed and dirty and it made Steve feel as if he was on the best aphrodisiac ever. 

"Call me," Steve whispered against Bucky's ear, and Bucky shuddered in delight.

"What was your name?" Bucky breathed, and Steve fell back into those eyes, the eyes like ice and flames burning bright and reaching his soul.

"Steve." Steve kissed Bucky again, soft and swift. "I'll see you around."

"Yeah," Bucky said faintly. "Around."

Steve had to almost physically restrain himself from wrapping Bucky back in his arms and kissing him until the end of time and only gave him a smile before leaving. The last Steve saw of Bucky was him leaning against the wall, looking dazed and blissed.

\-----

"Dear God, being anywhere near you is almost impossible."

Steve glared over at Sam, who had abandoned watching the movie to stare at Steve. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You're pining, man," Sam elaborated. "That Chucky guy - "

"Bucky," Steve corrected.

"- has got you wrapped around his finger like a particularly weak piece of string," Sam finished. Steve just scoffed and turned back to the movie. He didn't even know what it was about - an animated woman with a ridiculously small waist was shooting ice from her fingers, and that was about it. The ice reminded Steve of Bucky's eyes, and he shook himself from the thought. Now that was just pathetic.

"It's not like you're any better," Steve shot back. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"What are you talking about?"

"You and T'Challa," Steve elaborated, and grinned when Sam's face turned bright red. "If you made a move on him - when you weren't drunk, of course - he'd probably enjoy it."

"Keyword is 'probably'," Sam snapped, before pausing. "We woke up naked and in the same bed last week, with his dick still in my ass. He said something about it being a mistake, and then left. He hasn't spoken to me since."

Steve sighed. "God, he's an idiot. He must think he took advantage of you."

"We were both drunk," Sam protested. "And I was _very_ clear when I told him to fuck me until I couldn't stand."

"Just talk to him, dude," Steve said and punched Sam on the shoulder. "T'Challa's a gentleman - he probably wanted your first time to be after a couple of months of dating, where you spent the entire night wrapped up together in passionate lovemaking. When neither of you are drunk."

Sam's face was giving off heat waves to rival a small star, and Steve turned back to the movie, satisfied that the conversation had strayed away from his not-even-a-hook-up the week before. But apparently not, because when Sam's face was a more natural colour, he kept up with his bullshit.

"Why don't you call him?"

"He hasn't texted me, so I don't have his number."

"Why hasn't he called you?"

"How would I know the answer to that?"

"When you two were making out, what was I doing?"

"Dancing on the table and occasionally kissing T'Challa. I think I saw you doing jello shots with a stripper at one point. And then T'Challa called me to ask that I'd come home in the same Uber as you two. Which was not fun, because I had to help the poor driver wipe your jizz off the backseat after T'Challa gave you a blowjob and came in his pants."

Sam groaned there, putting his head in his hands. "God, he's never gonna talk to me again."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Dude, he's seen you do much worse. And he's crazy in love with you, so I doubt he'll be able to stay away for long."

Sam glared at him, before standing up and stretching. "I'm gonna make some pasta, and pretend you didn't just lie to my face about something I'm very sensitive about. Recommendations?"

"Man N Cheese," Steve replied immediately, and Sam made a face. 

"Bolognese it is."

\-----

Sam was wrong, Steve thought as he laid in bed that night. Completely and utterly wrong. Sam was a dick who liked to stick his beak into places it didn't belong. Steve was not _pining._ Bucky didn't even mean that much to him. It wasn't as if Steve was constantly thinking about the shade of his eyes or the taste of his lips or the way he pressed himself up against Steve as if trying to merge forms. Not at all.

Steve was very rudely interrupted from his thought process by his phone beeping loudly. Its screen lit up the room in a bright blue, and Steve shielded his eyes as he reached for it, turning the brightness to its minimum.

_Unknown number: I hope you haven't forgotten me by now, because I have to say, that was the best drunken make-out session I've ever had._

Steve stared at the phone for a few minutes, before he felt a grin split his face in half. 

_How would you like to do it again, when we're not in public and our friends aren't being cock-blockers?_

A few seconds later, he got an address. 

_\-----_

Bucky was even more beautiful than Steve remembered. Maybe it was because Steve was sober, or maybe the club had been too dark for Steve to fully appreciate Bucky. Or maybe it was because Bucky was arching above him, grinding his hips down as his body took Steve to the hilt. His eyes were closed, his swollen lips parted. His hands were braced against Steve's chest, and the metal was cool against Steve's overheating skin. Scars made a morbid pattern over the left side of Bucky's body, but Steve was so completely head over heels for the man that it just made him look more beautiful. 

"I know that we're doing this backwards," Steve gasped out, pleasure spiking through him so strongly it was hard to think. "But I really like you, and - oh Jesus, that's good - I wanna take you to dinner sometime." 

"You didn't think to ask me out when your dick wasn't buried inside me?" Bucky huffed, his hips slamming down. Steve arched off the bed and grabbed Bucky's hips, thrusting upwards as hard as he could. 

"Didn't want to miss the opportunity." 

Bucky groaned, and Steve took the opportunity to flip them over, his arms bracketing Bucky in. Bucky got with the program quickly, wrapping his legs around Steve's waist and pulling him down for a bruising kiss. It wasn't long until Steve shuddered and emptied out into the condom, Bucky following soon after. They laid in each other's embrace for long enough that it started to get pretty sticky and gross, and Steve reluctantly pulled away. 

"We should probably shower," he said, nuzzling into Bucky's neck. Bucky hummed, wrapping his arms around Steve's neck. 

"As long as you buy that dinner. And wash my back." 

"I think I'll be able to manage that," Steve teased. Bucky laughed, and pulled Steve up to kiss him. 


End file.
